


Spot the Lie

by gawainsgirdle



Series: My Vampire, My Werewolf, and Me [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zack is a werewolf, Angst and Humor, Ass Play, Attempted PIV, Bad Dirty Talk, Cloud's dog Fenrir, Cloud's still depressed even when he's happy, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Everyone knows but Cloud, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Oblivious Cloud Strife, Past Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough, Power Bottom Cloud Strife, Service Top Zack Fair, Trans Character, Trans Cloud Strife, Trans Male Character, mentions of somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 06:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gawainsgirdle/pseuds/gawainsgirdle
Summary: Cloud just wants a good dicking. Zack wants to keep his secret and Cloud's pelvis intact. Later, Aerith asks some heavy questions after Smash 64.





	Spot the Lie

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title: The Mystery of Zack Fair's Magnum Dong
> 
> this is part of my and my friend AzuraDameron's FFVII/Twilight crossover, which started as a joke and over the past year has developed into a real thing. gods help us

Cloud hardly got the chance to sleep in, and when he did, he almost never took it. There was something refreshing about waking at 4:30 AM, hours before the Pacific Northwest sunrise, and hopping on his bike to outrun the light. He liked watching dew splatter on his goggles as it chilled his bare arms—a minor act of masochism that shot literal shivers through his body and shook any dreams out of his head. But after two years, somehow, of fucking and then dating Zack Fair, he’d started to realize why everyone made such a big deal about lazing in bed with a warm hunk of muscle with a strong tongue and a lot of love to give. Today made two years and a day. A miracle.

Yesterday, Cloud’d let Zack rope him into as many corny romantic gestures as Zack could coordinate in Kalm, Washington—which wasn’t a whole lot, but it was still more than Cloud usually put up with. Pizza dotted with M&M’s in the shape of their initials, slow dancing at Seventh Heaven as Tifa smugly refused to spare from Cloud the awkwardness of watching, rose petals on their bed in the shape of three water drops.

“Like the emoji!”

“Yeah, I figured that out. Why not a dick?”

Zack had elbowed him in the side—which, because of Zack’s seven inches over him, landed near Cloud’s armpit—and beamed. “Gotta give me more credit than that, Spiky. I’m creative sometimes.”

So Zack had creatively wrestled Cloud onto the bed, yanked Cloud’s jeans and briefs down to his knees, and adored Cloud’s ass with his tongue until he could fit three hot, blunt fingers inside to fuck his G-spot through both walls. Zack hadn’t relented after two, three, four orgasms, not until Cloud had kicked him in the shoulder and gritted out between crests of sensation, “Zack fucking Fair, if you don’t let up you’re sleeping in the office with the dog.”

Zack had cackled in the shit-eating way that only a boyfriend could, attacked Cloud’s cheek and forehead with kisses, and left to wash his hands. Cloud had conked out, physically drained and mentally exhausted, before Zack had come back.

Cloud may have been sated last night, but that didn’t stop him from waking up at 7:30 the morning after with a hard clit and an empty cunt. Lucky for him: the sun crept its way over the covers to sting his eyes and stuff up the room; the litter from last night, crushed petals and sticky clothes, made him want to groan at the thought of cleaning his disaster room again; and Zack’s cherry-head cock poked out from between Cloud’s bare thighs, a sight that made him both more and less dysphoric at the same time. Cloud was used to waking up as the little spoon and having to wrestle his way out from under Zack’s arms to pee. Right now, feeling his boyfriend’s ridiculous, dense chest hair crushed against his shoulders, his stale breath puffing at Cloud’s hair, and his huge hand cupping Cloud’s belly just stoked the fire. He figured he’d take what opportunities fell into his lap, or between his legs. How many times had Zack woken him with a kiss to his ass or thigh, or even with a dick in his pussy?

Cloud licked the tip of his thumb and reached down to swirl it around Zack’s cockhead. After a few seconds, his breath stuttered in Cloud’s ear and precome started leaking down Cloud’s thumb. He almost crowed in satisfaction; nothing made him feel powerful like drawing out the physical signs of Zack’s arousal, proof of how much Zack wanted him this morning and, apparently, always would. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked in Zack’s bright-salt-musk taste.

Behind him, Zack hummed so deep in his chest that Cloud felt it rattle his own ribs. Then he jerked awake, his dick slipping out of Cloud’s grasp. Cloud let out a snicker and rolled onto his other side to face his boyfriend.

Zack blinked his fucking fluorescent eyes at him and scratched his chest. “Uh. Morning!”

“G’morning.” Cloud smiled at him, riding a wave of tenderness at the sight of Zack’s groggy confusion, his mouth agape and pupils wide. He clenched down on nothing and gripped Zack’s cock by the base. “You gonna let me take care of that?”

Zack grunted and licked his chapped lips. His brow creased, highlighting the pink and white scars scattered across his temples, nose, and cheeks. Cloud leaned forward and kissed the darkest one, on his left cheek. Zack’s inscrutable—conflicted?—expression melted into the puppy love Cloud was so familiar with.

“Maybe. What if I took care of you instead?” Zack cupped his vulva in his palm and crooked a finger until the tip brushed his hole.

Cloud shivered, but shook his head and dislodged Zack’s hand to swing a leg over Zack’s bare hips. Zack was so much broader that Cloud had to really stretch to balance himself and press both knees into the mattress. “You didn’t fuck me last night.” He rubbed his clit on Zack’s abdomen and shuddered when Zack’s cockhead smeared precome on his ass. “Or let me touch you at all, now that I think about it.”

Zack grinned, but his eyes flashed with something like panic. “I’m a giver, what can I say?”

His hands slid up Cloud’s pockmarked, freckled thighs to rest on his hips, following as Cloud kept rocking. His grip gradually tightened until he took over for Cloud entirely, grinding Cloud against his stomach so hard that Cloud gasped. But Zack was trying to distract him.

“So I guess I’m the selfish one.” Cloud scowled in thought and dug his fingers into Zack’s clavicle. “And I just gotta take what you wanna give me.”

Zack’s eyes creased wryly. “Yep!”

“What if I want to do something for you?” Cloud reached behind and squeezed Zack’s dick as tight as he dared. He tried to cant his hips backward, to catch the head of Zack’s cock between his folds, but Zack’s grip held firm. He slid Cloud up his abdomen, high near the middle of his chest.

With a wink, “Then you should sit on my face and let me eat some breakfast.”

Cloud hardly had time to catch his balance before Zack used his obscene, stupidly hot strength to haul Cloud’s knees over Zack’s shoulders and settle his pussy over Zack’s open mouth. Cloud grunted at the sudden heat on his clit. He threaded the fingers of one hand through his boyfriend’s ridiculous, soft hair, slammed the other against the wall, and bore down. If Zack wanted to breathe, he wouldn’t have snuck the tip of his tongue under Cloud’s hood and run circles around his spark-sensitive clit.

“I know—” Cloud inhaled sharply as Zack added the barest of sharp pressure with his teeth. He looked down to see Zack’s eyes peacefully shut, like he really was savoring something delicious and Cloud was interrupting him. “I know you’re doing this so you ain’t gotta answer me, but I won’t—_fuck_—”

Zack hiked him even higher up his face, pressed his nose into his clit, and slipped his wide tongue into Cloud’s cunt nice and slow, like he really needed to take his time to barely stretch Cloud out. Cloud swallowed a frustrated growl and clenched his fist in Zack’s hair. “Mother_fucker_, get on with it.”

Taking an exaggerated breath, Zack pushed Cloud a couple inches above his face and opened his eyes to smirk at him. “I thought this was for me?”

“Who cares who it’s for?” Cloud snapped. Zack laughed, as beautiful as ever.

“Then tell me what you want, Sunshine, and I’ll give it to you.”

Cloud tried to jerk his hips back down, but Zack refused to budge. His cunt pulsed at the thought of the bruises that’d bloom tomorrow.

“I want you to fuck me with your tongue and rub my clit until I come.” He gritted out, “Without _stopping_.”

Zack’s shrug jostled Cloud’s knees and almost toppled him. “Easy peasy.”

In a move that would’ve broken a lesser man’s nose, he slammed Cloud back onto his mouth and fucked his tongue as deep into his pussy as possible. Cloud couldn’t give a shit about the whine that escaped his throat, especially not when one of Zack’s callused hands left Cloud’s side to rub the underside of his clit. Seconds later, Cloud’s thighs gave out entirely and he dropped his weight onto Zack’s head. He almost felt bad, but Zack’s blissed expression and long moan killed any guilt. Instead, he clenched from a jolt of lust. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Cloud marveled. “Sometimes—God—sometimes I wanna use you all day until you break. If you can break.” Zack’s shut eyes squeezed tight at the thought and he opened his mouth even wider, to take in even more.

Zack’s tongue had been strong when they’d met; over the past two years it’d become impossible to tire. Thrusting his tongue as hard as he could, he let Cloud drip down his lips, jaw, throat until his tan skin shone. He was gorgeous, enraptured by the task and glowing with satisfaction, as if Cloud was worth all the attention. All the _worship_.

Cloud felt his cunt tighten in anticipation, let each spark of electricity singe him as his boyfriend’s thumb scraped against his clit just this side of too rough, and yanked on Zack’s hair until he almost took out a chunk. Tremors took over his body and an overwhelming wave rose within him. Zack’s eyes flung open to watch as Cloud crashed into an orgasm that tore a raspy groan and a flurry of _fuckfuckfuck _from his throat.

Zack, a professional motherfucker and Cloud’s-pussy-enthusiast, took advantage of Cloud’s shaking thighs and kept lapping at Cloud’s folds until he griped, “Stop it, _stop_, oh my God.” Zack licked him from clit to ass one last time and rolled him off of his shoulders so Cloud landed with his back on the mattress.

He turned his head to look at Zack, to take in his sticky chin and bruised lips, and let shudders take over his body. The look on Zack’s face could only be called devotion: pupils blown, chest heaving, Adam’s apple bobbing, mouth slack and slowly rising into a grin. “How’s that for give and take?”

Cloud huffed out a laugh and gave Zack an open-mouthed kiss. The salt of his own body would always taste foreign, but he was hooked on the power rush of watching Zack pine after it whenever Cloud felt like teasing.

“I dunno,” Cloud murmured. He glanced down at Zack’s swollen cock, covered in precome and bobbing above his stomach. “I still want you to fuck me.”

Zack crooked an eyebrow. “You’re not satisfied? Whore.” He cackled when Cloud elbowed him in the ribs.

“I’ll be ready to go again in five minutes and you know it. I like your dick and I want it.” Zack’s raised eyebrow became two wiggling brows and a twinkle of mischief. “Shut up! Not like that!”

“No, Spiky, I got ya. One dick delivery, incoming!” Zack spun onto hands and knees and loomed over Cloud, their noses touching. Cloud could see Zack’s eyes moving as he studied each of Cloud’s freckles.

Cloud did not pout. “Zack, I’m serious.”

“I know you are. You want my sweet meat, my magnum dong—”

“Did you just quote—”

Zack’s grin grew and grew. “You crave a little—or big, if we’re being honest—explorer in your deepest cavern, huh? A Master Sword in your lonely hilt? Or maybe you want a worm in the brown—”

“_Zack_,” Cloud groaned, hammering on his chest with useless fists. Zack pecked his nose cheerfully and continued:

“That’s what you’ll be crying out when I slam my red-hot poker up your dark chimney. ‘Oh, Zack, your dick is so magically humongous, let’s get married so you can spend every night thrusting Thor’s hammer into my moist thundercloud—’”

“_Zack Christ-shitting Fair_,” Cloud said, eyed bugged in disbelief and betrayal, “if you don’t shut up in the next two seconds I’m gonna really break your neck!” His hands rose from Zack’s stupid pecs to his dumbass throat. Zack’s humor-bright eyes shone as happy as ever. Cloud had barely started to squeeze when a high animal whine and scratches on the door interrupted him.

“Oh,” Zack said, full of innocence, “babe, it’s time to put Fenrir out.”

Cloud body fell limp onto the mattress as he channeled every ounce of his energy into suppressing a scream. He muttered, “Motherfucking shit bastard in God’s own house. I can’t believe I have to break up with you.”

Zack just kept smiling, his expression equally full of love and mischief. Fenrir butted his head against the door with a thud. “Babe, the dog.”

Cloud rolled out from under his shit-mouthed boyfriend and yanked yesterday’s briefs over his hips. Nonsensically, “_You’re _the dog.” He left to let Fenrir into the yard and missed the surge of tension that shivered through Zack’s body.

-

That afternoon, Cloud bore Zack’s monthly flood of hugs and kisses and pet names (“Babe, leaving you sucks every time,” “I’ll be without my Sunshine! What will I do!” “Jerk off thinking about me every day, my love,”) as he padded around Cloud’s house in just his jeans and stuffed random articles of clothing, his toothbrush, and his hair products in a duffle. Zack planted one last sloppy kiss on Cloud’s forehead, warm hand pushing back Cloud’s hair, and set off with a spring in his step for Angeal’s ranch, about twenty miles outside Kalm. He left for at least four days every couple of weeks; he’d put off this last trip because of their anniversary, despite Cloud pointing out that they could celebrate after Zack came home. With how weird Zack had been acting, regardless of the enthusiastic head, Cloud wondered whether Zack should’ve left earlier anyway.

Cloud watched Zack mount his motorcycle, gingerly crush his hair beneath a helmet, turn to give Cloud a thumbs up, and ride into the gray, timeless day. He didn’t feel sad, but maybe a little quiet as he spent the rest of the daylight on his back in the garage, that last image of Zack rattling in his skull.

He wasn’t sad, but Tifa never believed him. After that one time when Cloud didn’t leave his house while Zack was gone except to make deliveries or work in Cid’s mechanic shop, Tifa had kicked in his door and brought an armful of movies and video games to threaten Cloud with her friendship and company. She’d also brought her girlfriend, Aerith, who had broken up with Zack a little while before Cloud met him and was way too kind to let Cloud make this weird friend group awkward. She made his childhood best friend happy enough for Tifa to tolerate Cloud’s bullshit without it bringing her down, too, so Cloud appreciated and even liked Aerith, despite her habit of waiting for him to get drunk before unleashing her emotionally charged questions.

He only put up token protests when Tifa and Aerith stood on his front porch that evening with the usual party kit in tow: greasy patty melts from Turtle’s Paradise, the best and only diner in Kalm, Smash 64, and Tifa’s shiny mixologist set that she’d spent too much money on and refused to waste on the regulars at Seventh Heaven. They got Pabst and Svedka; Cloud and Aerith got Zombies and Sunset Grenades.

“What a surprise,” Cloud drawled. Aerith beamed and swung her and Tifa’s clasped hands, which he recognized as her way of stopping herself from reflexively hugging him. The corner of his mouth tugged up to see them together, especially to see Tifa so comfortable holding a girl’s hand in public after their shitty upbringing in Nibelfuck, Montana. Aerith had taken her time to coax her into that, Cloud knew.

Tifa smiled in that genuine way she had, kind of like Zack, where her eyes crinkled until they were half as big and you knew she really was glad to see you. Cloud had witnessed her customer service smile enough to know the difference. She shoved the food bag at Cloud and said, “Hey, soggy bottom.”

Cloud blinked, replied, “Okay, dyke,” and fought a smile. He refused to meet her amber eyes; he knew how bad that entry into their decades-long shit-throwing contest was. Zack’s weirdness put Cloud off his game.

“Weak play, twink. Haven’t seen you in Seventh Heaven for a while.”

Cloud, dedicated to being a shitty host so his friends would stop trying to plan parties at his house, turned his back on them and took the food to the living room. Aerith shut his front door with a polite click and an even more considerate, locking thunk. He heard their footsteps behind him as they navigated the minefield of sweatpants, dirty cloth napkins, tank tops that obviously belonged to either Cloud or Zack, several of Zack’s novelty boxers including a pair with INDICKSTRUCTIBLE written across the ass, and a treacherous styling comb or two. Tifa’s sneakered tread was overpowered by Aerith’s booted stomp that made the floor creak and, in some places, bow. It took every therapy session he’d cobbled together over the past three years not to whirl around and dip into a fighting stance at the sound of someone behind his back.

“I haven’t seen you much either,” Aerith said in a way that wasn’t at all accusatory but still resonated in his chest like guilt. “Is Zack being selfish with your time?”

Cloud put the Turtle’s Paradise bag high on a Goodwill bookshelf that Zack had thrift-dived and repainted cobalt to match the blue chintz wallpaper (“And my eyes!”), then crossed the living room to open the sliding glass door to the yard. Fenrir came barreling in, curved tail raised to heaven and silver coat specked with mud. He darted straight for Aerith, who planted her boots shoulder-width apart and braced for impact.

Laughing all the while, she wrapped her arms around the Elkie’s barrel chest and let him smear mud all over her pink overalls and yellow armhole tank. Tifa set the games and her mixology set on the living room table, this one painted a patchy sage green by an enthusiastic but not super detail-oriented Zack Fair, and took advantage of Fenrir’s laser-focus on her girlfriend to ruffle the fur around his nape and ears. He preened under the attention—attention which Cloud was, unfortunately, shit at giving despite his therapist’s suggestion that having a pet to care for would draw out Cloud’s soft and tender side more often—and rubbed his damp nose all over Aerith’s cheeks.

Her hands buried in Fenrir’s fur, Tifa turned her gaze to where Cloud leaned against the wall. “So? Don’t we deserve a visit every now and then? Or do you only text nowadays?”

Cloud shrugged. “Shouldn’t you be happy that I ain’t drinking as much?”

“Ha!” Tifa shook her head, her silver drop earrings catching the soft yellow light from the couple of stained glass lamps that, guess who, Zack had charmed from a couple of older women at a flea market. “If you’re not drinking at Seventh Heaven, you’re drinking at home. Where I can’t kept an eye on you.”

“I got Zack for that,” Cloud pointed out. He pushed off the wall, paused to scratch under Fenrir’s chin and fluffy chest, and flopped onto the floor between the table and the brown split-leather couch like he always did when there were more than two people in his house, without even a pillow under his ass. Throw rugs were for cowards and people who didn’t spend half of their mechanic’s pay on repairing their own bikes that they ran into the ground for their delivery business. “He watches me close enough.”

“He’s a remarkably caring person!” Aerith chimed in. She let Fenrir hop down and start chasing his tail. Cloud knew he’d do that for up to fifteen minutes before he’d finally curl up on a corner of carpet and fall asleep.

The leather groaned in the timbre of a threat as Aerith took her seat. Tifa swatted Cloud’s head as she plopped down on the other cushion, which he took as his cue to start up the ancient N64 that Zack had bestowed upon their household.

“He’s a sweet guy, yeah,” Tifa said as she rummaged in her bag and handed Cloud the Smash cartridge. She rucked up the back of her shirt and unhooked her bra with a sigh. “But sometimes he’s about to go and then you don’t wanna show your face in my bar.”

Cloud griped, “He leaves for _four days_. Six at the most.” He slammed the cartridge in the slot with the satisfaction of a kid who gets to press the elevator buttons. “You don’t trust me when he’s gone?”

Tifa flung her bra on the floor, somewhere near Zack’s boxers. Aerith picked up a controller and started setting up their match—Smashed rules: one on one, the non-player mixes the loser’s drink during the match and then plays the victor—and said, “That’s not true,” at the same time that Tifa said, “Not really.”

Cloud rolled his eyes and took the other controller. Aerith had already chosen Kirby, because of his adorable pink face and militaristic appetite. Cloud had always chosen Link, which usually made him think of Tifa’s twink jokes, but tonight brought to mind Zack’s abhorrent Master Sword comment. Cloud fought a scowl and started the match. Tifa gave up on nagging him and started mixing what would definitely be Cloud’s drink.

It was, and it tasted deliciously light on booze. Next round, while Kirby beat Tifa-as-Samus’s ass into and off the stage, Cloud poured pineapple juice and grenadine syrup into her glass with a single drop of rum. Tifa noticed, of course, but let it go.

As Aerith demolished them in round after round and Cloud’s sobriety faded into a funny memory, he started to relax. He slumped against the sofa between the girls’ legs, answered Tifa’s questions about Zack’s choice of underwear, teased Aerith about the number of times she got distracted by watching Fenrir snooze, and cracked dirty jokes about his boyfriend. He’d never tell them the confusing flurry of shit that’d fallen from Zack’s mouth that morning, but Zack committed to plenty of corny lines that _he _thought were romantic gold. Cloud loved bantering about Zack: his stupid jokes, his allergy to wearing clothes, his sci-fi-gorgeous eyes. It was easier and felt sweeter, warmer than talking about himself.

Eventually, Tifa cut herself and Cloud off and concluded Smashed by awarding Aerith with an elderflower tonic she’d mixed with a dexterous, loving hand. Aerith received her spoils with grace and declared it dinner time. Cloud, steady on his feet if spinning inside his head, retrieved the Turtle’s Paradise bag from the bookcase and got out paper plates as well as some bleached napkins that he’d nicked from every diner along his meandering, tri-state route. Aerith put her pick, _Pacific Rim_, in Cloud’s DVD player and their chatter faded to sleepy-drunk silence. He’d almost drifted off when Tifa’s hand fell on his hair and started massaging his scalp between spikes. He craned his neck back, careful not to dislodge her, and found himself smiling at them both.

“You’re cute when you’re nearly incapacitated,” Tifa said. “I bet Zack likes you this way. Slut.”

On reflex, “Whore.” Cloud turned his blue eyes to Aerith and gave her silent permission to touch his hair, too. She went for the shorter tufts behind his ear and scratched him like she did Tifa’s cat. “I’m hardly incapacitated, or whatever. I’m just tired.”

Aerith scratched a little harder at his admission. “You do get up really early.”

“S’not that kinda tired. But thanks for the support,” Cloud drawled as he glared at Tifa with no fire.

Tifa bopped his head with one hand and shook her fingers through one of his spikes with the other. “He chooses to do that, so he can ride his bike when there’s no traffic and no people out and about in town to wave hi to. He’s like a Simon & Garfunkel song.”

Cloud bitched, “Shut up about ‘I Am a Rock,’ my God, it’s been years.” Tifa, paragon of disrespect and betrayal, just cackled.

“It’s the only song you ever did karaoke to! I carry the burden of that knowledge!”

Aerith giggled and leaned her head on Tifa’s shoulder. Tifa pecked her girlfriend’s temple, nearly missed and got her eye, and rose to her feet. “I gotta piss. Don’t scare him too much, babe,” she said with a wink.

With Tifa gone, Aerith dug both hands into Cloud’s scalp and used her nails to great effect. He’d rarely been this close to sleep, this trusting, around someone he wasn’t dating. He blinked slowly a few times, eyelashes casting long shadows over his cheeks. His eyes had slipped shut when Aerith started talking:

“Zack told me you celebrated two years together yesterday.”

Eyes still closed, Cloud’s brows pinched together. “He talks about our relationship with you?”

He felt Aerith shrug. “You tell Tifa all about him. Tifa tells me. Zack gives me his own side of the story.” Her voice softened: “It’s nice to hear about all of it. I’m glad that he’s so happy.”

Cloud opened his eyes, shook off Aerith’s hands, and turned around to look up at her. “He’s a cheerful dude.”

Aerith shook her head and smiled at him. “No, Cloud, _you _make him happy.”

Hearing that from someone who knew Zack so well crashed into him like a storm gust when he rode his bike in late summer. He swallowed and muttered, “I’m sure.”

Aerith’s geode-green eyes widened. She looked excruciatingly earnest, in a way that Cloud knew was genuine rather than mocking. He’d have preferred it if she were joking. She said, “He really, really loves you.”

Cloud wrinkled his nose in confusion. He said tersely, “I know.” He turned his gaze down to his hands, where he had been worrying at a peeling strip of leather since Aerith started her sober-truths-from-drunk-tongues shit.

“Cloud, look at me.” He didn’t; Aerith huffed. “Or, look at your house. How much of this furniture did he pick out? And fix and paint? He’s put a lot of effort into your home together.”

Cloud shut his eyes again and swam beneath the surface of the groggy darkness behind his lids. “…I don’t get it. Obviously I know Zack put effort into his house. He lives here.”

If he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen Aerith’s hands curl into rare fists. He kept plucking at the leather strip. “What if…” She trailed off for a second, weighing her words. “What if he wants to live here, with you, for a very long time?”

Plucking turned into tapping his heartbeat into the leather. His eyes snapped open and he jerked his head up to glare at her. “Just spit it out, Aerith.”

Her jaw seemed stiff, but her voice was as careful as always. “How do you feel about the word ‘forever?’ Because I know Zack loves it.”

Cloud wished Zack was there right then: Zack would kindly but firmly tell Aerith to back off, carry Cloud to their bed when it turned out his knees were swimming in vodka, let Cloud curl into his dumb, huge chest, and give Cloud a dumber, huger smile. Cloud could fall asleep without ever realizing how “forever” in Aerith’s voice echoed through his chest like, “Let’s get married,” in Zack’s did, despite the idiotic context.

Cloud coughed and stared at Fenrir dreaming in the corner. The pup’s legs were twitching, his lips pulling up to bare his gums and teeth. “I think that’s all I got for drunken honesty hour, Aerith.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Tifa plodded over and laid her hands on Aerith’s shoulders. She gave Cloud that real, happy smile and said, “Hey, I’m beat and fuck knows you’re gonna be up early tomorrow. I think we better get going.”

Aerith tensed for a second, clearly not finished with him, before relaxing into her girlfriend’s touch. Cloud nodded and tried not to give Tifa too shaky a smile. He clambered to his feet and went to loom over Fenrir. “I’ll put him out for one last piss, then, and y’all can leave before I lock up.”

He leaned down to scratch behind Fenrir’s ears until the dog snuffled awake. “Do you wanna go out?” Cloud whispered in his best dog owner voice, exhausted as he felt. “You wanna go out, bud?”

As is the way with puppies, Fenrir very much wanted to go out. He shot up and nearly sprinted into the glass door before Cloud could slide it open. Aerith giggled; Cloud was grateful he hadn’t totally shit on her mood.

They all watched Fenrir run around and sniff for a good place to pee from the side porch, Aerith and Tifa in Cloud’s discount, cracked-plastic lawn chairs, Cloud leaning against a wooden pillar.

“He sure woke up in no time,” Tifa laughed.

Cloud shrugged and let a corner of his lips lift in a half-smile. “He’s a dog; he’ll always go nuts about being outside.”

“That, and it’s the full moon,” Aerith pointed out. Cloud glanced up and saw that unblinking, pale yellow disk.

“I hadn’t noticed.” Cloud tended not to look up too often.

Aerith turned to smile at him innocently. “I didn’t figure you had. But look at how much fun he’s having.” Fenrir had squatted to pee and was gazing up at the moon, his nose pointed skyward. “Maybe there’s a werewolf in our midst.”

Cloud missed Tifa’s glare or the sharp elbow that grazed Aerith’s side. He just shrugged, whistled at Fenrir, and took him back inside. As Aerith and Tifa gathered their stuff and said their goodbyes, Cloud fiddled with his phone in his pocket. It was only after he’d locked up behind them and sat on his—his and Zack’s—bed for a minute that he broke.

_how was ur ride? is angeal still a hardass? _

A couple minutes passed.

_did u drop ur jacket on the floor again so hed nag u abt it later? _

Another long pause. Cloud shook a hand through his hair and flopped onto his back.

_tifa and aerith came over. aerith beat my ass at smash & asked me weird qs about u_

_she seems to get off on that_

_anyway. fen misses u. i, however, am perfectly fine _

Cloud was too fucking drunk for maudlin texts to his boyfriend. Too drunk, too tired, too confused from earlier.

Still: _spot the lie. _

_u know, if u wanna renew our lease for the next two years, that’s cool w me. _

Whatever. Zack was either busy or sleeping. Cloud heard Fenrir nose the bedroom door open and felt the bed dip as the pup plopped down next to him. Cloud figured he’d let the poor dog stay, just for tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Mitski voice: let's get married 
> 
> isn't it rough when you wanna nail your boyfriend but are having a hard time controlling your super werewolf strength? if you wanna talk about it, hit me up @ transcloud on tumblr
> 
> incoming in the next part of the series: Cloud discovers that Zack is a werewolf; Vincent Valentine is there


End file.
